Up and Down the River: What we never expected

If we come out of this pandemic not learning anything, we are not paying attention. I am going to list some expectations we had about our lifestyle that are turned on their heads.

I am not talking about plans that can no longer take place like weddings, graduations, and funerals. And maybe not our new appreciation for drive-in theaters, though that is maybe similar. What are listed here are lifestyle decisions we thought were good before the pandemic but now are just the opposite.

Of course, the coronavirus will eventually go away, but by that time, we should've learned our lesson about future expectations.

For all of these examples, the question is: Who would've thought that possible?

For my first example, let me go back in time to one of my favorite TV shows, "Monk." Monk, a detective, was the subject of ridicule and humor because he was a germaphobe, wiping his hands with antiseptic every time he shook hands.

A friend, a devourer of books, almost never bought books. She also didn't like the idea of a Kindle or Audible, preferring instead to feel a book in her hands. Her daughter regularly went to the library with her mother's long list of books and came back with a pile.

I always thought she had the right idea since owning books necessitates room to store them or, inevitably, a way to get rid of them. My excuse for not going my friend's route was that she is a fast reader, whereas I'd be constantly renewing library books.

Being of a certain age, friends have been divesting of their stuff, selling their homes and moving into assisted living. It seemed sensible, especially with the idea of someone taking care of us if need be. Even though another friend said, Yep move into that facility with medical services attached and then when needed, into cemeteries right next door.

Now that joke has a biting truth. We are safer in our own homes.

Then there's the freedom of the open road. People have sold their homes in order to live in their RVs for travel and visits potentially to every state. But now with nothing open to see, they feel imprisoned in their vehicles.

The cruise version of "assisted living" goes as follows:

For the wealthy, there was a Norwegian set of ships called Resident Sea where someone could buy a condo onboard, and the ship would provide five-star restaurants and constant travel to distant spots. Unfortunately, the concept failed in its appeal when "riff-raff" came on board, renting units for short term occupancy (because the company couldn't fill all of the units).

A slightly less expensive version was for someone to hop from one ship to another to be constantly taken care of and to see the world -- all the while avoiding the hassles of home and car ownership.

But are we better where we live?

Beware of smugness. It's true that there's a boon to be in the boonies. We who live next to the National Forest can walk often without seeing a soul. We glory in not being in congested and popular NYC. However, even with way fewer cases here, if and when the virus does surge here, our hospitals are not as well equipped as those in cities.